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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565961">Return the Favour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateQueenCatherine/pseuds/PirateQueenCatherine'>PirateQueenCatherine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Mid-Canon, Mild Blood, Pre-Time Skip, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:15:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateQueenCatherine/pseuds/PirateQueenCatherine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bernadetta finds life at Garreg Mach difficult. She sees herself as a burden, and being surrounded by people of her own generation, for once in her life, only reminds her that she does not feel comfortable around others. She certainly does not feel safe.</p><p>So how does it feel when Dorothea, an accomplished and popular student, seeks to be her friend? How does it feel when Dorothea offers to protect Bernadetta? How cruel, she thought, to expect your friends to undergo the hardship of your friendship, when you so regularly invite abuse, hurt, and pain. </p><p>And so, she locked herself away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Return the Favour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yet another self indulgent character study of Bernadetta von Varley, this time taking place at Garreg Mach as a student. The opening is from her B support cutscene with Dorothea, and it goes from there. I hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey now, relax. There’s nothing to bawl about. If your dad tried to beat me up, I’d return the favour and then some.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Return...the favour?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I was in the opera, you better believe I had run-ins with the most wicked, terrible men. I survived kidnappings, attempted murders, all kinds of stuff. But you know what? I broke those guys’ arms. Snap! It was a thank-you for all the trouble they went through trying to hurt me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re incredible, Dorothea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So now that you know I can defend myself, can we be friends, Bern?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right. Yeah. Yeah!”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>That conversation had been playing on repeat in Bernadetta’s mind for days. Every time, she came to a new conclusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was this what friends would have to be like? Would friends have to be willing and strong enough to...break someone’s arms?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Would people be targeted for being friends with her?! Was she a bad influence, a cursed omen of what is to come for anyone who stayed near her?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Is this what other people go through? But Dorothea is so wonderful, you’d never know people tried to murder her! Is she just...weak for being the way she is?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had not come out of her room since then. Edelgard and Byleth had been so kind as to bring her food and water, as much as the monastery’s cooks disliked seeing plates and cutlery go missing, although Byleth’s position as a professor helped them get away with it. It also meant Byleth could give Bernadetta textbooks, to at least help her keep up with some of the lessons.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been some time since Bernadetta was in a state like this. In fact, everyone thought that she was improving, people saw her around the greenhouse and dining hall more in recent weeks. She had stopped flinching when a shadow approached from behind. Or, at least, she had stopped squealing and running. The flinching was much too hard to control.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And nobody but her knew why. Edelgard did her best to tentatively coax it out of her, but she wouldn’t budge. “I can’t,” she’d mumble to herself, clearly feeling like this was a burden, although whether she considered it her own, or simply one she could not inflict on others, as subtle as a difference that may be, she didn’t reveal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dorothea was, of course, involved in the moment that had caused this. But she had no idea either, she certainly wished that Bernadetta had come to her in these moments but that conversation must have been difficult for her. She was glad they were ‘formally’ friends now, but clearly it took a toll on Bernadetta. It was truly sad that nobody else knew what to do, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>And neither did Bernadetta. Instead, she sat in her room trying to distract herself. She wrote fiction, about a band of friends discovering a secret underneath their…<strike>monastery</strike> school. She cuddled a soft toy. She cried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At a glance, nothing too out of the ordinary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she spent any time not engrossed in something struggling to look out of the window. Guilt overwhelmed her. The world outside was not simply cruel, but she was a magnet for its cruelty. A victim that not only hurt herself, but brought on pain to everyone around her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wanted so desperately to be close to Dorothea. And the other girls! And the boys! But they were better off without her, so she thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a little over a week feeling this way, she received a guest that she had not expected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Bernadetta, it’s me, Sylvain. Any chance I could chat to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While she did not respond immediately, he knew she was in there by a telltale squeal coming from inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, wanted to ask how you’re doing, y’know? I haven’t seen you around and, well, I don’t want to be too sappy, but I miss seeing you around!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want from me!” She cried. Although the door was locked shut, he could hear that her voice was definitely muffled after it came through some blankets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, well, nothing so plain as just wanting something from you, just your time. Maybe your company, if you’d like that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sylvain?! Asking for her company?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh goddess, she thought. Was this because of her writing?! Had he found more of it?! She was so careful now, to make sure nobody found her stories in places she was too forgetful. Especially the ones inspired by Garreg Mach! Oh, no, had he seen what she had turned Jeritza into in her story…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No pressure, of course, I just thought maybe you’d like to chat. It can even be through the door if you’d like! I can tell you a funny story about Linhardt falling asleep in class again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled at that one. But covered her face with her hands, she couldn’t! If she stood at that door, she’d be encouraging him! What if someone came to attack her, and he was in the way! They’d attack him too!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, this was an absurd thought. And if you encouraged Bernadetta to make the logical steps through her thought process, she’d know too! There was the fact that in Garreg Mach she was safe, for this place to be attacked successfully was unheard of. But there was also the fact that curses like that were not real. She was not going to be targeted, there was no karmic influence bringing evil people to her door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That did not stop her from thinking it. She struggled to reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I assume you’re busy, but I’ll come back at some point, if that’s okay? If you can’t speak for whatever reason, you can write something and slip it under the door. Thinking of you, Bernadetta!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood there for a moment, as silently as possible. Perhaps she would say something? Or she was scribbling a response to him? After standing there for a minute or so, he turned and walked away. Until he heard a bang, making him turn back and watch as her door seemingly wobbled on its hinges. Then, he heard Bernadetta crash to the floor inside, wailing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A-are you alright?!” He asked, rushing back over. Inside, Bernadetta was tangled in a blanket, which she had tripped on on her way to the door, landing face-first on it before falling backwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes! I’m sorry! I’m okay! I promise! We can talk another time!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’re sure, but, please ta-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was cut off by a scream. Sitting there on the floor, she felt her top lip get warm and wet. After wiping it with the back of her hand, she saw a smear of blood across her knuckles. Her nose was bleeding from the impact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waaaaaaah~!” She cried, scrambling backwards away from her hand, as impossible as that was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bernadetta, can you let me in? I want to make sure everything is okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, uhm, wah, I...knocked my head on the door, and my nose is bleeding.” She said, panting from the fight or flight response (which was definitely more flight than fight) as she inspected herself in a mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, Bernie?! Is your nose broken? Can I get you some water? Can I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Sylvain, I’ll, uhm, speak to you later.” She said dismissively. How could she have been so stupid to trip over her own feet, she thought, carrying around a blanket like a child and falling on her face like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but, you know where I, and Linhardt if your nose is really hurt, am. I hope I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” He asked, but she wasn’t paying much attention, instead curling up in a corner of her room while she bled into a handkerchief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually the bleeding stopped, although the metallic smell lingered as the sun went down and her room quickly went dark. Outside, she could hear some bustle, as people made their way to their rooms for the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sigh. Had she done the wrong thing? Should she have let Sylvain in? The bleeding didn’t last too long, and her nose felt fine now, other than some light bruising. At least it matched her hair, she thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not only would she bring evil men into people’s lives, look at her, she was clumsy and foolish, doing childish things that just made her look silly. Even though she tried to go and talk to him, she made herself look stupid! Stupid, stupid Bernadetta. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, if someone had asked her to go through the logical steps, she’d realise that was self-deprecation reaching a point of self-harm. But nobody did, nobody knew how to. She was locked in her room, not knowing how to deal with the pain of blaming herself, because, in a twisted way, blaming herself at least let her blame someone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If she could blame herself, she wouldn’t need to admit that really, humans were simply capable of both cruelty and mistakes. If she could blame herself, she wouldn’t need to admit that she was vulnerable to people. The list went on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Bernadetta made it to sleep that night, after cleaning her face. She wanted to stay up late writing, but didn’t want to draw attention in case anyone saw the light of a lantern through the cracks in her door. Instead, she wrapped herself up in blankets and held a stuffed toy to her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the next morning, she overslept. Rubbing one eye, she stumbled out of bed and noticed a note had been slipped under her door. Her heart raced, was it a death threat? Blackmail? Had she angered someone with the noise from last night? Oh, goddess, what would she do!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She approached it cautiously, the same way she would a spider or other equally threatening creature. The cursive writing...certainly didn’t look like it would be fitting for a note informing her of a new status as a hostage, so she reached down to pick it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lady Bernadetta,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hope you are doing well. I wanted to bring you some food this morning, but it sounds like you had a rough night, Sylvain was asking after you. I hope you rested well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ve left some food outside your room, I apologise if it ends up cold, I didn’t know when you’d be up, but thought it best you had something at the very least. I hope you can make it to class today. It would be lovely to see you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m here if you’d like to talk. We all are.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yours,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lady Edelgard von Hresvelg”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite an urge to destroy the letter, sever this connection to somebody else, it was somewhat precious. Edelgard’s handwriting was, as always, impeccable, and she couldn’t help but admire it. The curve and flick of the g in Hresvelg was fun, in a strange way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After placing it down on her bedside table, Bernadetta unlocked her door, cracking it open. Underneath a cloche was a fish omelette. She pulled it inside, along with some cutlery wrapped in a napkin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How kind of her. Thoughtful to not only bring some food, but that when Bernadetta seemingly didn’t respond to a knock at her door, Edelgard took the time to write out a letter like that. It was very generous of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bernadetta sat at her desk and ate slowly, considering what to do with her day. She had a textbook to read through, and her arms were feeling a little weak, it had been over a week since she had held her bow. But she’d have to go out and speak to Shamir for that, and, well, that wasn’t really possible. She shouldn’t even be allowed to hold a weapon, what if she accidentally let it go wrong, and hurt somebody? Arrows were dangerous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed. Textbook it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the rest of the morning, she read. She read until the sun had passed over the monastery and beamed into her window, making her arm burn a bit when it started to cover her desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With good timing there was a knock at the door. Was it time for lunch already? She hadn’t noticed, although when she peeled herself away from the book, Bernadetta became aware of a splitting headache, probably from dehydration after not drinking all morning. Hopefully Edelgard had brought her some water, so she wouldn’t have to leave the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stumbling a little over her chair, she got up and walked to her door, opening it for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the arch stood a much larger figure, looming and dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lady Bernadetta, I have brought you some food. Lady Edelgard and the professor are, unfortunately, busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was stunned, a deer in headlights.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I understand it, you haven’t been seen out of your room in some time, are you trapped in here for some reason?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no response, and she clearly was not physically trapped. Her jaw hung down, but she couldn’t make a noise. He reached forward, with a bowl of stew in one hand, and a large cup of water in the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see not physically, but...Lady Bernadetta, there is growing concern among students, myself included as uncharacteristic as that may seem, that you are finding things too difficult. We would like to help, in any way possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We would like to make sure you are safe and accommodated in the monastery, because despite any difficulties, you are a highly valued student in the Black Eagles house, and I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped suddenly, stuttering, as the water and food were knocked out of his hands. Bernadetta had fallen forward, onto him. No, actually, not fallen - she had propelled herself at him, wrapping arms around his torso, pressing her face into him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She began to bawl. He had no idea what to do. They were lucky the steaming hot stew hadn’t fallen down either of them, instead off to the side. Of course that was his first thought, he had no idea how to respond to this. Bernadetta didn’t ask for anything, she simply cried into his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both stood there awkwardly. She was positioned leaning forwards, rather than fully embracing him, while he held his arms out, looking closer to a scarecrow than a man. Eventually, he finally lowered them, awkwardly patting Bernadetta on the back as she cried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her crying turned more into bumbling stutters, as she sprayed syllables (and probably some spittle) while trying to say something. They were standing in front of the main noble dorms, and Hubert would...rather not have everyone watch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lady Bernadetta, perhaps we could...take care of this in your room?” He asked, voice wavering a little. While she clearly attempted to reply, she simply cried further and took small steps backwards, pulling him gently into her room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After closing the door, he carefully attempted to pry her away from him, getting the girl to stand up straight and look him in the eye. Her top lip visibly quivered when they made eye contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, Lady Bernadetta, I am woefully uninformed, but could you explain what is going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trying to compose herself, she shook her hands as if to throw off the sobbing fit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Hubert, I...I wasn’t expecting you, I thought you would be Edelgard, and then seeing you scared me, and I couldn’t hold it back, because I’m not even that scared of you right now as silly as that is, because I’m scared of being a magnet for evil, and I’m scared that I can’t be friends with Dorothea because she might have to break someone’s arm, and that sounds like a really horrible thing to have to do to someone, and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That sentence carried on for about 3 minutes, as she turned it into one long monologue where she leapt from fear to fear, sometimes admitting things that Hubert knew little about other than rumours of the cruelty of Count Varley. The only breaths she took were between uncontrollable gasps whenever the urge to sob rose again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she finally stopped, he did not know how to respond. She could not look him in the eye - perhaps because the darker floor was easier to look at than the bright, sun-lit walls when hers were so bloodshot. She shuffled her feet and passed her gaze from corner to corner of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Hubert, I, uh, didn’t want to let that out. Just...you know when something happens and it all overflows?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded silently. Then he sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The world is terrible, Bernadetta. In many ways, some of which...I hope, one day, you come to learn, when the time is right. I know that does not sound comforting, not right now, but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he walked over to her desk, and pulled out her chair. With a confidence nobody would expect from the man after he had never been in her room before, he took the seat, and looked to the ceiling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’d like to change it. As cruel as it sounds, not specifically for you, but knowing you would be in a better world certainly puts me at ease. We can’t change the world, but we certainly can change things for you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All of these things you mention, you are not alone. But you are also not responsible. I hope you don’t mind me being quite so blunt, but you are not. I don’t know of what happened with your father, Lady Bernadetta, but you were, quite frankly, a child. I don’t know much about those stories of Dorothea’s, but she was a victim of a grossly self-indulgent industry that chews people up to spit them out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am acutely aware of your vulnerability, Lady Bernadetta. This isn’t so that I can make you feel guilty, I am not telling you this as an insult, but because I accept it. As does Lady Edelgard, as does the professor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally looked back at her. She was shaking, and had retreated to the other side of the room, sat on the side of her bed. Nervously, she bit on the dangling cord of her hoodie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are aware of your vulnerabilities and accept them. Physically, if you don’t mind me saying, we would not want you to be hurt. You are an archer to avoid direct attack. And with regards to your quarters, we will always make them safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Emotionally, we want to do our best for you. I will admit, I have been distant in that regard, but I would like to apologise if that is not what would be best for you. Clearly…” he gestured towards the door, the site of her sobbing into his chest, “there should be a space for someone who can offer you comfort. I would be happy to help. If you’d like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She struggled to comprehend this moment. Truly, it was something absurd. Hubert was terrifying to look at, his snake-like eyes watched her now, pointed face as sharp as any of the knives she was certain he kept on his person at all times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But his words? They were comforting. He was the last person she expected to say something that understood her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something that recognised the fact she was clearly not a fighter, like Caspar or Ferdinand. She was not a leader, like Hubert or Byleth. And yet although she may describe herself as such, she was not useless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In truth, none of the other Black Eagles members could fire an arrow like her. She had a perspective that, in a planning room, was sorely needed. Her presence alone was a morale boost, as, despite the fact Bernadetta didn’t know it, the rest of the house adored her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, none of this was true with her locked up in a room. Hubert’s words understood that: there was value in Bernadetta, a value that could not be quantified, but one that was certainly felt. One that could only be achieved if everyone made sure she was welcome. One that made sure that her vulnerabilities did not invite abuse, but invited care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to...to feel like you should be protecting me! Much less fixing me! That’s not your responsibility, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raised a finger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you needed fixing, Lady Bernadetta, I would not be sitting here like this. There is no fixing to be done. I am, certainly, not a mechanic. Even less a doctor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And equally, this isn’t about protection. This is about enabling. You are smart, Bernadetta, your essays in class are excellent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought the professor was the one who read those?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughed to himself. Clearly his underhanded tactics involved reading everyone else’s work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are a brilliant archer. You are, as much as my laugh can come across as dismissive, a funny person, and by all accounts, a delight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Accounts…?” She asked, concerned she was being discussed. He brushed over that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I would like to make a statement right now that you can rely on. As long as you are with myself, the professor, and Lady Edelgard, we will ensure your physical safety. That much is, if I am honest, easy to accomplish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hubert stood up, and walked towards her. Rather than slinking into the back of her chair, fighting the urge to either flee or pass out in front of him, she simply stared down at his boots. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Emotionally, I would like to reassure you, Lady Bernadetta. The class is more than aware of your difficulties. We know what we are in for, as it were, when we get close to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He offered a hand, and helped her stand up straight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If what it takes is constant reminders that we know what is expected of us to make you safe, and comfortable, and happy, I am certain we would be more than capable. Those who are not will find themselves at my-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hubert! Don’t hurt other students for me!” Her eyes were welling up again. They both smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. But the point stands: if you would like reminders, if you would like more allowance for you to be safe in here, if you would like displays of your value within the house, it will be done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I can reframe Dorothea’s statements for you. We are willing to do whatever it takes to make you comfortable. It is not that you require us to defend ourselves, it is not that you invite difficulties, it is that no matter how much the world fails to accommodate you, we will not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had fully started crying once more. He grimaced a little, not knowing fully how to respond, but did as he did earlier, although this time with intent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his arms wide and pulled her in. This time with both arms, one holding her back, the other around and across her shoulders. She cried, although this time there was far less wailing, and a lot more sniffling. Trembling, shaking, but, in a way, calm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“T-thank you, Hubert.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hubert didn’t respond, other than by squeezing her shoulder gently. They stood there until the crying stopped, and Bernadetta pulled back, still feeling guilty, doubly so about the wet patch on his shirt from her tears and, maybe, sniffling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What...time is it?” She asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lunch is likely over. Class will be restarting soon, which I should almost certainly return to. You would be welcome to join, if you feel capable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a shake of her head, she walked towards her desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d...rather not. But I’d...like to see you at supper tonight?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling, nodding, and with a gentle bow, he backed up towards the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Lady Bernadetta. Take care, and please, feel free to disturb the cooks if you end up hungry. I’m well aware of the smell of stew on your doorstep.” He joked, leaving the room, closing the door for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once more, she cried. This time into a blanket which she pulled from her bed and covered her face with. This time her mind wasn’t filled with self-deprecation, thoughts of how the world was closing in and her friends would take the blows, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She considered how she got Hubert wrong. She was, undoubtedly, wrong! That was, in a strange way, comforting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was wrong. She was wrong. She was wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It repeated in her mind, as it felt like her fears from before were shot down each time. Not forever, oh certainly not, but perhaps now there was some room. Some room for her friends in Black Eagles to take her side, and take care of her needs. To find some ways for her to be, without hurt. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, I absolutely consider this my personal headcanon start to a Hubernie relationship.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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